


Start Summer on the Right Foot

by anaraine



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: F/F, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-10
Updated: 2018-08-10
Packaged: 2019-06-25 08:46:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,813
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15637266
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anaraine/pseuds/anaraine
Summary: Sara is thrilled that her girlfriend is going to be spending the first two weeks of summer in Italy.





	Start Summer on the Right Foot

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Val_Creative](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Val_Creative/gifts).



For as many airports that she's been in over the years, Sara can't say she finds any of them comfortable. They're a chaotic mess of too many people and too many voices and the combination means it's nearly impossible to hear herself think. Thankfully, she's not getting _on_ any airplanes today, which means the noise is easier to bear.

The _Aeroporto Internazionale di Napoli_ still smells like burnt jet fuel and stale coffee, which serves as an excellent deterrent for buying an overpriced breakfast. Sara bounces on her toes, trying to keep her body warm as she eyes the door for arrivals again. Mila's plane has landed, but she still has to get through immigration and find her baggage, so there's no reason to be so impatient—

"Sara!"

Sara's smile spreads across her face as she scans the crowd in front of her, looking to catch sight of red hair. Mila has a heavy skate duffle slung across her body and a suitcase on wheels trailing behind her. She looks tired, but the answering smile on her face is more than enough to bolster Sara's mood.

Mila is hindered by the bulk and speed of her suitcase, so Sara darts between the wave of oncoming people to cover the distance between them more quickly. She pounces, pressing three quick kisses to Mila's cheeks. "I'm so glad you're here!"

There's a faint flush creeping across the bridge of Mila's nose that Sara _loves_. For someone who just stepped off a twelve hour flight, she looks entirely too cute.

"I'm glad to be here too," Mila says, and if her smile is a little shyer than Sara would like... well. They have enough time to get comfortable with each other again. "I still can't believe Yakov let me do this."

"He's your coach, not your father," Sara reminds her. "Besides, he's probably glad you talked to him about it at all, instead of just running off like all of his male singles skaters."

Mila snorts, her smile growing broader. "That's true."

"So how was Japan? Also, can I get one of those for you?" Sara waves a hand in the general direction of Mila's baggage.

Mila bites her lip, fingers tightening in the strap of her duffle before she asks, "Could you take my skate bag? My shoulders have been killing me."

"I wouldn't have offered if I wasn't willing," Sara says, and if she feels a little giddy that Mila's letting her carry her _skates_ it's no one's business but her own.

"Japan was nice," Mila says, as Sara situates the bag over her shoulder and makes sure her skirt won't ride up as they walk. "I've got some funny stories to tell you about Yura, but I don't think I can manage them right now." Her stomach gives a little grumble.

"Oh, do you need to eat? Are you hungry enough for airport food or can you wait for a real restaurant?"

"I don't really want airport food, but I need to take a shower if we're going out. Can we just do breakfast at your house?"

"Yes!" Sara blurts out, much too quickly. "Yes, we can do breakfast at home. As long as yogurt and muesli are okay?"

"That's fine," Mila says, and she reaches out to tangle her fingers with Sara's and give her hand a gentle squeeze. "I'm not that picky."

**◊◊◊**

Sara nurses her caffè latte as Mila digs into her breakfast. It's health food, but it's _good_ health food. They're in Italy, and there's no reason to be eating cardboard that masquerades as food. If she has to bust her ass a bit more on the ice to be able to eat some carbs from time to time, well, she's willing to pay that price.

"I kind of thought your brother would have shown up by now," Mila says between bites, glancing back towards the hallway.

"Mickey?" Sara snorts. "If it's not for a competition he doesn't get out of bed before noon."

Mila pauses, her spoon held halfway between her bowl and her mouth. "But don't you both have early ice time?"

"Yes, and he _hates_ it. Today is a rest day; it would take an act of God to get him up before lunch."

"Oh." Mila finishes her bite of yogurt and scrapes her spoon across the bottom of the bowl to get the last little dregs of yogurt. "Is he a heavy sleeper?"

"Provided you're not trying to shake him awake, yes," Sara says, her brow furrowing in confusion. "We don't have to whisper, if you're concerned about that. And our rooms are on opposite sides of the house."

"That's good to know," Mila says, and that blush that Sara loves makes a reappearance on her face.

Though, Sara's a little confused as to why— oh. _Oh_.

" _Cara_ ," Sara says, leaning on her accent to draw the word out. "Are you thinking dirty thoughts?"

Mila's delicate blush spreads across her cheeks like wildfire, and she throws her linen napkin in Sara's direction, even as she starts laughing. "I haven't seen you in person since Worlds!" she protests. "It's not a crime to want to have sex with my girlfriend!"

"The furthest thing from a crime," Sara agrees, and pushes her chair back from the table. "Mila, _cara_ , would you like a personal tour of my bedroom?" She takes Mila's hand in her own and trails lingering kisses from her knuckles to her wrist. "Or perhaps my bathroom, if you still want to shower?"

Mila mutters something darkly in Russian while knocking Sara's hand away and standing so quickly that her chair squeaks against the tile. In the time it takes for Sara to blink, Mila has lifted Sara up into her arms. Sara's stomach swoops with anticipation, a giddy rush of adrenaline singing through her veins. She loops her arms around Mila's neck and leans in to press a kiss to the hinge of her jaw.

"I would love to take a shower with you," Sara murmurs. "A very long shower, to make sure you're squeaky clean."

Mila slants her eyes to look at her without moving her head, a wry smile curling her lips. "I'll need directions."

"And I will gladly provide them," Sara says, before pointing back towards the hall. "First we need to make a right at the end of the hall."

Mila only hesitates for a second, giving her luggage a glance, before clearly making the decision that clothes can wait. Sara crosses her ankles and tucks her legs in close to her body to avoid knocking into any walls, but gleefully sucks kisses to Mila's neck as she walks. She savors every hitch in Mila's steps and the carefully measured way her breath leaves her mouth.

"You're an awful tease," Mila says as she lets Sara down in the bathroom, though her breath hisses through her teeth in a way that speaks of pain.

"Oh, your shoulder! _Tesoro_ , you shouldn't carry me if you're hurting!"

"I wanted to." There's a mulish set to Mila's mouth that Sara dislikes; she doesn't want to argue, she wants to seduce her girlfriend.

"And I love it when you do," Sara says. "I love it when you're so sweet to me. Let me be sweet too, hm?" She nudges Mila's hip with her own, stepping out of her slippers as she herds her girlfriend closer towards the shower.

"Let me?" Sara repeats, and tugs at the hem of Mila's shirt. Mila softens, lifting her arms into the air and letting Sara pull her shirt up and off. Her bra follows, with a pause to press kisses to the marks left under her breasts, until Mila moves to shuck her pants and that just won't do at all. Sara gently knocks her hands away and hooks her thumbs into Mila's pants and underwear, tugging them down her legs until she's kneeling at Mila's feet.

" _Cara_ , let me?" Sara asks, and with Mila's affirmative hum she takes Mila's left ankle in hand and lifts her leg over her shoulder, sandwiching Sara between her strong thighs. It gives her just enough room to press a kiss to the neatly trimmed patch of red hair, before moving lower and pressing a longer, more lingering kiss to Mila's core.

She's already slick, molten heat against Sara's lips, and Sara wastes no time in trying to devour her. She holds tight to Mila's thighs to keep her where she wants and delights in every shudder that ripples down Mila's spine and shakes her legs. She seals her mouth over her and sucks, reveling in the noises that fall from Mila's mouth. She grins triumphantly when Mila quakes and leans forward, hands at Sara's shoulders in an attempt to keep herself up.

"Sara, Sara, _Sara_ ," Mila chants, her fingers digging into Sara's shoulders in a way that's going to leave bruises.

Sara pulls back just enough to set her lips against Mila's clit, and then hums inquiringly. Mila _shrieks_.

It startles a huff of laughter from her, and Mila squirms under her hands, and she's so _perfect_. Sara loves getting to do this, loves how responsive Mila is, loves that her girlfriend is _here_ , in _Italy_. Sara is never going to be able to use her bathroom again without thinking of this.

She wants to stretch this moment out longer, to better hold the image of Mila flushed and wanting close to her heart, but the shaky, punched out whimpers falling from Mila's mouth and the way her legs are wobbling in Sara's hold tell her that she shouldn't. Far better to actually shower, and then reduce her to a writhing mass of need in Sara's _bed_.

Carefully, Sara steadies Mila's weight with one hand, freeing the other to slide two of her fingers up next to her tongue. She almost doubts that Mila notices, given how soft and welcoming she's become, but she crooks her fingers all the same and rubs deep circles against her heated flesh.

With a sharp cry, Mila comes, clenching so hard around Sara's fingers that her slick drips down to fall from Sara's wrist. Mila's body turns into deadweight, and Sara barely has enough time to extricate herself enough to keep her from falling to the floor.

Mila pants into curve of her neck as Sara whispers sweet nothings into her ear, interspersed with soft kisses to the corner of her mouth. She distantly regrets that _she_ never finished undressing, because she would love to feel Mila's skin against hers, but there will be _plenty_ of chances for that in the upcoming weeks.

When Mila manages to find her feet again, the glassiness of her eyes sharpening to an impish glee, Sara feels her breath catch in her throat.

"Shower?" Mila asks, the flirty tone offset by the raspy quality of her voice.

Sara can't wait.


End file.
